


mm

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, soul bonding, tattooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Nikaido and Senga get matching tattoos.





	mm

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (tattoos) and trope bingo (soul bonding).

“Gigolos really have the life,” Nikaido muses out loud as he lounges on Senga’s bed, catching up on  _Glee_ . “They get  _paid_ to have  _sex_ .”

Senga wrinkles his nose. “You would do that?”

“Hell yeah I would,” Nikaido says, turning to fix Senga with a shocked look. “You wouldn’t?”

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Senga exclaims. “Only gross people pay for that.”

Nikaido rolls his eyes. “So young and naive, Kenpi. Maybe you’ll understand the appeal when you get older.”

“You are _seven months_ older than me!” Senga exclaims, grabbing a pillow from his bed to smack Nikaido. “And you’re gross, too.”

Nikaido just shrugs and gasps dramatically as one of the girls on TV yells something before bursting into song. Senga’s not bothering to read the subtitles, his attention drifting to Nikaido’s face as he watches the show intently.

“Have you done it with a lot of people?” he asks carefully, not wanting to appear too…nosy? Judgmental? (Jealous?)

“Not really,” Nikaido replies, like it’s a completely valid question, and Senga supposes it is. Guys are supposed to talk about this kind of stuff all the time, right? “Just, you know, a couple girls.”

Senga does know this, including all of the details because Nikaido had called him immediately afterwards every single time, before he’d even caught his breath. Once was at two in the morning when Senga wasn’t awake enough to process anything but Nikaido’s panting into the phone, leaving him rather frustrated and very confused.

“So I was on the Internet the other day, and I found something interesting,” Nikaido starts, and Senga cringes a little because nothing good can come out of this. “Apparently you can make tattoos at home.”

Senga blinks. “Why would you even want to?”

“To save money!” Nikaido replies, like it’s obvious. “We should do it.”

“We should _not_ do it,” Senga counters, eyes widening at the thought of Nikaido coming at him with any kind of needle. “Did you forget? We’re idols. We can’t have tattoos.”

“We can’t have them where anyone can _see_ ,” Nikaido points out, then reaches back to tug down his pants enough to expose the very top of his ass. “Nobody will see here, unless we ever do _An-An_ , and they can airbrush that shit.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Senga says slowly.

“Well, I mean.” Nikaido hikes his pants back up and sighs. “We’re best friends, right? We should get something permanent, like the roman numerals for two thousand or something.”

“That’s actually—”

“I know it’s stupid, but I like it,” Nikaido says stubbornly, setting his jaw.

Senga hides a smile. “I was going to say that’s actually thoughtful. I like it, too.”

He feels even warmer as Nikaido’s face lights up. “Yeah? So you’ll do it?”

“Can’t we just go to a shop?” Senga sighs, wondering what he’d just agreed to. “It can’t be _that_ expensive, and they’re professionals who—”

“Kenpi, you are entirely missing the point,” Nikaido cuts him off, sitting straight up and staring into Senga’s eyes. “It’s a trust thing. You trust me to ink you, and I trust you to ink me. It’s, like, the entire foundation of our friendship.”

The only thing Senga is certain of is that Nikaido is talking out of his ass, but he nods anyway. “Okay, fine, but I ink you first.”

“Deal,” Nikaido agrees, and Senga tries not to look too smug because there’s no _way_ Nikaido will even make it five seconds with Senga jabbing a needle into him.

*

It’s fascinating, almost mesmerizing to watch a needle continuously pierce smooth, unblemished skin and leave behind dark ink in its wake. There’s not as much blood as Senga had expected, nor is Nikaido whining or even shaking. Senga has never seen him so still, so quiet, and a glance to his face shows him completely peaceful like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Does it hurt?” Senga asks carefully, not letting up on the speed or pressure just like the web printout instructed.

“Not anymore,” Nikaido replies, his voice low and soft. “I think I’ve gone numb.”

Senga frowns, because now he actually has to go through with it, but something about Nikaido’s reaction intrigues him. He completes the first outline and wipes away the excess ink, admiring the simple design they’d come up with—two Ms overlapping each other. Neither Senga nor Nikaido is particularly artsy with his writing, and the last thing they wanted to do was have Kitayama do it; they’d agreed not to tell anyone about it, actually. It seemed more authentic that way.

“Does it look good?” Nikaido asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Senga answers. “I’ll go over it once more to fill in the gaps, but for the most part it’s done.”

“You sound surprised.”

Senga laughs. “It looks better than I thought it would.”

“Good.” Nikaido rests his chin on his hands and takes the opportunity to stretch out on his stomach after going so long without moving. “I’ll make yours look just as good.”

Gulping, Senga tries to focus on making the dots of ink look like fluid lines and _not_ the fact that Nikaido will be returning the undoubtedly painful favor. Senga takes longer than necessary finishing up, insisting that Nikaido takes an actual shower instead of just washing the freshly tattooed area.

“Quit stalling and drop your pants,” Nikaido says upon his return, his own sweats rolled down to let his newly scarred skin breathe. “Wow, didn’t think I’d ever say that to you.”

“Shut up,” Senga grumbles, hiding his undoubtedly red cheeks as he lies face down on his bed and shoves down his pants halfway down his ass.

Nikaido’s touch feels strange, even though it’s not even anywhere that indecent and Senga hadn’t had any qualms about basically groping Nikaido’s ass to keep the skin taut for inking. The initial drawing with pen tickles and Senga squirms, making them both laugh until Nikaido clears his throat and Senga freezes.

“Relax,” Nikaido tells him. “It’ll hurt at first, but you get used to it.”

“Okay,” Senga says, squeezing his comforter in both fists as he closes his eyes and bites his lip. “Do it.”

He’d been aptly warned—the first prick hurts like a shot, but the fact that it keeps going has Senga’s nerves doing interesting things. He doesn’t get used to it, exactly, because little stabs keep coursing through his body, but they bring with them tingles that linger in places that leave no doubt in Senga’s mind why people enjoy this.

Because it’s turning him _on_. No matter how much he tries not to think about it in that way, there’s no denying that’s the reaction his body is having. He’s now gripping onto his comforter for a different reason, biting his lip to hold back dubious noises. He doesn’t think his blood has ever rushed this much, everything within him wanting to tremble and grind, but he can’t move lest he risks messing up the tattoo. Nikaido doesn’t have that steady of a hand to begin with, judging by the way he keeps adjusting his hold on Senga’s flesh.

“You okay?” Nikaido asks, his tone airy and even.

Senga just nods, not trusting his voice. He wants to ask how much longer, because he wants it to end just as much as he wants it to keep going. All too soon it stops, followed by gentle blots as Nikaido wipes away the excess just like Senga had done to him, although now the stinging returns full force and Senga’s eyes fly open at how fast his cock swells.

Now everywhere Nikaido touches him sends heat rushing through him, accompanied by that delicious twist of pain that Senga never knew he liked before right now. Unfortunately, Nikaido doesn’t have that much more to add, and gives Senga a bit of a slap on the ass before he hops up, making Senga damn near choke on his moan.

“Mine’s sore, too,” Nikaido says. “It feels better after you wash it.”

“I need a minute,” Senga says into his mattress, hoping Nikaido doesn’t pry into the reason why he can’t quite move yet. Though he fully intends on taking a shower when he can actually get up, because now he has something to take care of.

“Okay, well.” Nikaido looks around and frowns. “That was anti-climatic.”

Senga snorts. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, something…bonding.” Nikaido shrugs. “I’m going to raid your refrigerator.”

He’s barely out the door before Senga’s on his feet, racing to the bathroom and nearly diving into the shower, hissing all the while from the movement of his scarred skin. Once under the spray, however, Senga foregoes the washing for now and takes his cock in his hand, jerking as fast as he can and nearly drowning himself with the water to keep from being too loud.

When he comes, the tattoo burns, and Senga remembers this mind-blowing orgasm each time it stings from then on.

*

It takes them a couple weeks to notice, because Senga just figures it’s some kind of pain fetish and Nikaido’s characteristically good at ignoring the obvious. Senga doesn’t even realize there’s anything odd until _Nikaido_ jerks one day when Senga feels the now familiar tingling on his backside.

“Everything okay?” Senga asks carefully, talking himself into believing it’s just Nikaido’s stress from filming his first drama and doing a stage play and the timing was just a coincidence.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nikaido says quickly, though his face breaks out into a genuine smile upon seeing Senga’s concern. “Can we hang out later, though? It’s been awhile, which I know is my fault.”

“You’ve been busy,” Senga says gently, lifting his hand to touch Nikaido on the arm. It’s a gesture he does all the time, with basically everyone, but this time there’s such a shock that he jumps back and nearly knocks over Fujigaya, sending him crashing into Kitayama.

Senga winces as Kitayama bursts out laughing and Fujigaya scrambles to get away. It would be comedic if Senga didn’t feel so charged, like there was actual electricity flowing through himself and making his tattoo feel like it’s going to singe right through his pants.

“You two are acting weird,” Tamamori comments, eyeing them as Miyata kneels before him, trying to work out some kinks in Tamamori’s belt.

Nikaido looks back and forth between the two. “Hi pot, I’m kettle.”

“Wait, you have one, too?” Yokoo asks suddenly, shoving past Fujigaya to pull out the back of Senga’s pants.

Senga tries to straighten up, but it’s too late. He hadn’t pulled his belt on yet and they were low-riding pants to begin with, allowing Yokoo to catch sight of the tattoo he’d clearly already spotted on Nikaido.

“Explain,” Yokoo says firmly, folding his arms. “The agency has a rule against this, dammit.”

“It was his idea!” Senga exclaims, pointing at Nikaido, who just rolls his eyes.

“Look, we’re adults, so if we want tattoos in inconspicuous places, we will get them,” Nikaido says, standing as tall as he can even though Yokoo still towers over him.

Naturally this gets _everyone’s_ attention, and even Kitayama looks impressed when Nikaido explains how they’d inked each other. Miyata looks curious, Fujigaya looks bored, and Tamamori just smirks at them like he knows a secret.

“Matching tattoos, huh?” Tamamori says, and the way Nikaido glares at him has Senga shuddering.

Yokoo is still judging them, so Senga just hunts for his belt and finishes getting dressed. After the performance, he and Nikaido trudge the familiar way back to Senga’s apartment, the static between them stronger than ever. That’s the only thing Senga can identify it as, and while it’s definitely uncomfortable to feel like he’s being electrocuted through his tattoo every time Nikaido _breathes_ , it’s not entirely unpleasant.

Senga figures out why when he moves to close the front door behind them and ends up with his back against it, Nikaido flush against him and mouths fused together. Contrary to popular belief, they’re not actually like that, at least they _weren’t_ until this happened—whatever it is.

But now all Senga wants is to be close to him, to feel Nikaido’s body against his and kiss him breathless. Apparently Nikaido feels the same way judging the aggressive way he’s handling Senga, with absolutely nothing gentle about the way he shoves his (cold, cold) hands under Senga’s shirt to touch skin and pries open Senga’s lips with his tongue.

If it were anyone else, Senga would be completely turned off, but it’s Nikaido and Senga wants everything Nikaido will give him, right here right now. Nikaido tastes like coffee and the strawberry candy they’d shared on break earlier, his lips both soft and bruising as his hands create little streaks of fire everywhere they roam. Fingers slip under the back of his waistband and the first brush to the still healing tattoo has Senga moaning as arousal floods his body so fast that his mind spins.

“Me too,” Nikaido gasps between kisses, and Senga tries to remember how to move his own hands to slide around Nikaido’s waist. He feels the raised skin on his fingertips and feels Nikaido’s hiss against his lips, along with Nikaido’s entire body weight that flattens him against the door.

Senga doesn’t understand any of this, but it sure does feel good. To have Nikaido’s hands on him, tracing the tattoo he’d etched there just a few weeks ago, and to feel Nikaido shamelessly devouring him like he’s the only important thing in Nikaido’s world right now. Senga’s legs fall open and Nikaido presses even closer, pulling Senga’s air right out of his lungs with the erection that grinds right against his.

Nikaido’s noises are even better, not as loud as Senga would have expected had he actually thought about this before, but that just makes Senga want it more. Boldly he reaches down to cup Nikaido through his pants, which has Nikaido kissing him harder and rocking into his hand. He squeezes and now Nikaido’s moaning, rushing to return the favor and swallowing Senga’s own noises as they grope and grind like teenagers.

“Nika,” Senga gasps, finding a sliver of coherence when Nikaido starts to unfasten his pants. “Let’s go to my room.”

Everything stops, a rush of air filling Senga’s lungs now that he can breathe properly again, though he almost loses it when he sees the look in Nikaido’s dark, dark eyes. “Okay.”

It’s Nikaido who drags Senga by the arm, but Senga wouldn’t have expected any less. He’s not without his own impatience, however, and thus he’s the one who pulls Nikaido down on top of him as they fall onto his bed. Nikaido returns to his mouth like he’d never left, wheezing through his desperate kisses as his legs fall open on either side of Senga’s, and Senga’s sliding his hands up Nikaido’s thighs as he stretches out beneath him.

He reaches Nikaido’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze before tracing the tattoo again, which has Nikaido picking up where he’d left off in opening Senga’s pants. Senga rushes to catch up and they’re tearing at each other’s clothes, grunting when something doesn’t move the way they want it to until they’re skin to skin, gasping into each other’s mouths. Senga can’t touch it all fast enough, feeling Nikaido’s muscles work under his hands as run up and down Nikaido’s back and shoulders.

His fingers brush the tattoo and Nikaido jerks, grinding against him hard, and Senga groans from the friction. “Where’s your stuff?” Nikaido demands, and Senga reaches for his nightstand without missing a beat.

Nikaido snatches the tube as soon as Senga pulls his arm back, and Senga watches in awe as Nikaido lubes his fingers and pushes them between his own legs. “You’re going to—”

“Shut up,” Nikaido grumbles, and it’s kind of cute combined with the way his face scrunches up. “Just…touch the tattoo, please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Senga replies, highly distracted by Nikaido’s expressions and how his body pushes back against his fingers. It takes him a couple seconds to remember what he’d just agreed to do, lifting his arm in a haste to brush all four fingertips and thumb over Nikaido’s tattoo.

“Fuck, why does this feel so good?” Nikaido breathes, lowering his head to Senga’s chest before snapping it back up, sending his hair flying all over his face. It’s probably the hottest he’s ever been, ever, and Senga can’t stop looking at his parted lips and squinted eyes. “Stop staring at me.”

Senga narrows his eyes and presses a little harder on the scarred lines, pulling a moan from Nikaido so deep that Senga’s hips rock up. The movement rubs his own tattoo against the comforter and he leans back toward Nikaido’s mouth on impulse, drinking down both of their noises as Nikaido’s jerking gets faster.

“Kenpi,” Nikaido says, and he sounds desperate, needy. Senga saves him the embarrassment and reaches for the lube, slathering some onto his cock before grabbing Nikaido by the hips and urging him up.

Nikaido sits back on his heels and Senga’s breath hitches at the view; he can see Nikaido’s fingers pushing in and out of himself perfectly, body clenching around them and Senga’s hands tighten on Nikaido’s hips, his own fingers drifting back to touch the tattoo some more. “Nika, I want you,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure his words even articulate well enough, but Nikaido seems to understand completely as his eyes focus on Senga and he carefully pulls his hand away and straddles Senga’s lap. “Use my name.”

“Takashi,” Senga gets out just before Nikaido sinks down onto him, slowly but impatiently. He has to use all of his willpower to stay still, because all he wants to do is thrust up into that tight heat over and over, but he waits until Nikaido starts to move before giving a little rock upwards.

Nikaido moans, leaning forward as he speeds up and has Senga choking on his air. It doesn’t take long for Senga to give in, thrusting so hard that Nikaido bounces, and everything else seems to fade away. All Senga knows is Nikaido and sex and whatever this is between them, each slam of his cock inside Nikaido bringing him closer and closer to euphoria.

Suddenly everything gets so much tighter and Senga pries open his eyes just in time to see Nikaido’s mouth fall open as he fists his length. It’s so hot that Senga can’t hold back anymore, tracing the entirety of Nikaido’s tattoo to make him catch up, though it works a little too well when Nikaido cries out Senga’s first name and comes, spilling over his hand.

That’s enough to make Senga lose it, and Nikaido slips his hand down Senga’s back to touch his tattoo, taking him even higher. It’s a good while before Senga can think again, vaguely registering Nikaido rolling to the side and grumbling about a mess. By the time he opens his eyes, Nikaido is glaring down at him impatiently, and Senga just laughs.

“This isn’t the bonding I wanted,” Nikaido huffs, but doesn’t resist when Senga urges him down into his arms.

“Are you sure about that?” he asks, stroking Nikaido’s hair and watching his eyes flutter shut.

“I suppose it could be worse.” Nikaido squirms into a comfortable position, conveniently one that leaves Senga with easy access to his hair.

Senga just holds him close, feeling the warmth burn from within him as well as the tattoo, and decides against telling Nikaido that this was one of his better ideas.


End file.
